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Another reminder of how close he was to saying goodbye to Lauren. Maybe he could convince her to stick around a few more days. He had an actual bedroom he could take her to. An apartment he barely used. It was nearly empty and shabby as shit, but it was his.
He’d never upgraded simply because he was rarely home. It was easier to pay for the shitty two bedroom than to worry about outfitting a better house he’d never enjoy either. Truly a waste of time and effort.
Until now.
He almost didn’t want to show her where he lived. Reality had no place in this little bubble they’d created. But that was a problem for a different time. Another twenty-four hours to push that to the back of his head.
He strode out of the room and up the side stairs to the stage. The floor was full of people already. Lauren was directly in front of his piano, with her arms resting on the stage. The security guy was giving her a dirty look until West crouched in front of her and lifted her hand to his mouth. He turned her wrist up and scraped his teeth over the fragile skin and traced the line of veins until her pulse fluttered under his lips.
Then he stood and went to his piano. Elle came from the other side of the stage with Jules waving behind her, bass swinging from her neck.
Juliet went right to the microphone. “Hey guys.”
The whole crowd roared.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said into his own mic.
“Were ready fo
r a kickass night. We left a few slots in the setlist for you guys. Any requests?”
A barrage of song titles came at them. He plucked one of them out of the air. One he hadn’t played since they first got together as a group. One that he’d written with Michael on the beach when they’d been certain the band was going to implode.
He scrawled “Welcome to the Edge” on the white board they kept on Mal’s drum riser for audibles. He passed it over to Elle who looked down and gave him a rare wide smile. She scribbled down another song and swung the board around so he could see it.
He laughed. Damn right they’d do “Dangerous” from the new album.
After a shouting match they agreed to add a final song by way of a vote. “Intent” and “Undermine” went to a song battle status as the fans sang the lyrics to “Intent” at them.
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” West shouted.
The crowd lost their shit. Then again when Mal came out with his battered sticks over his head.
Michael and Ryan ran up the steps and took their places with huge smiles. The house lights dimmed and the disco ball spun lazily. Raspberry pinpricks of light glowed from the walls as a scatter shot of silver blue lights penetrated the night.
Molly melted out of the night all gypsy grace with her earthy tangle of scarves and beads tinkling from her rose gold microphone stand. Her husky voice started off the show with “Exile”. It was a slow building song.
Lazy at first with heavy pianos to complement her sea siren voice. Until the bridge when the string lights slowly built as Molly’s voice did. The crowd lost their minds and sang along.
The entire show became like that. The true fans were in residence. A few that were looking only to be seen with the up and coming band, but for the most part it was people who were there for the pure love of the music. His gaze kept drifting to Lauren in the front.
She’d made friends with the women around her. Well, at least the concert kind of friends. Bonds of music was a phenomenon that would appeal to her. There was little talk of her project since they’d hooked up. There wasn’t much room for it when they both seemed to be more immersed in each other than the outside world.
He found himself laughing with the girls and dropped in front of them with his tambourine and two extra cowbells, one of which he handed to Lauren and an ecstatic redhead beside her. Ryan pulled out his bongos behind them and hammed it up to the crowd. It was one of their larger hits and had a beachy flavor that was perfect for Molly’s earthy look. The crowd clapped along to “In Your Arms” as West sang the lyrics right to Lauren.
She pounded on the cowbell and laughed when the girls nudged her.
Every part of the song made sense for them. The moment he’d gotten her into his arms, he’d never wanted to let go. Her love—fuck—the word felt foreign and so right at the same time.
But it was true, her open heart had healed him more in a few days than a lifetime of music and brotherhood had. The crowd clapped and sang back the lyrics he’d written with the heaviness of an uncertain future and a hope he’d been afraid to voice.
Just like Lauren, though a different chamber of his heart.
He took the cowbells from the girls as he climbed back onto the step up off the stage where his piano was. He slammed on the keys and wrestled with the powerhouse talent of their lead singer.
Molly didn’t like when the spotlight was pulled away from her, but his song was next. “The Ghost Inside” was a heavier song with Ryan running for another bass guitar to build up a dual bass line that made the entire room thump like a heartbeat.
His arms were slick with sweat and his hair and shirt soaked by the end of the song. Molly fell to her knees and as the last strains of the song echoed out into the fairy lights. The room was dark save for the blood red lights on the walls. She stayed on her knees, her hair curtained around her blinged out microphone.
